Child of Edoras
by JediKnightBalthasar
Summary: Never having left Edoras before, the trek to Helm's Deep was an adventure for eleven-year-old Haleth, but compared to what has yet to come? People die in war, and sometimes we come out with very little. What matters in the end is salvaging that little we
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable  
  
Author's Note: I am well aware that Haleth is a movieverse character. I felt that he needed a story, and while I may not be right to write it no one else seems to have taken the chance. Sorry if anyone has. Please do not flame me for adding movie and book together into this story.  
  
  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Haleth was sweeping up in the kitchen, and his mother Laina preparing the afternoon meal, when a shout and collective gasps wafted into the room. Haleth rushed to the window over the counter. He jumped twice in rapid succession, frustrated by his inability to see out the window. He lifted one leg to rest on the countertop, then hauled the rest of his weight up and knelt, taking advantage of the view offered by the small window.  
  
"Mama! Mama, look. Something is happening at King Theoden's hall! I can't see. . ."  
  
Laina looked up from her work cutting vegetables and sighed. "Haleth, get down from there!" she exclaimed, exasperated. She reached over and effortlessly lifted the boy down to the floor.  
  
"Oh, can't I go and see what's happening, Mama?" Haleth begged, biting at his bottom lip.  
  
"No, Haleth, it is not your business. What is your business is--"  
  
"Getting the floor swept," Haleth finished with her. "I know."  
  
"Good boy," Laina said, kissing his forehead and handing him the broom. Haleth obliged, knowing that he had only to bide his time until his father told him the whole story.  
  
Not so very much later, Haleth and Laina were interrupted yet again. "By order of the King, the city must empty!"  
  
"Empty?" Haleth asked his mother. His watery blue eyes had grown wide with fear, and he chewed his lip again. His already pale skin had gone even whiter. Only eleven years old, Haleth had never been outside Edoras.  
  
"We will go to Helm's Deep," Laina told her fretful son. "Do not be afraid. Not for the first time do our people seek solace. Now help me gather what things we will bring with us."  
  
Haleth obediently helped Laina gather apples, bread, and water. Despite his mother's brave words, Haleth was frightened. This; Edoras, the house; was his home. He had never left it. What if he didn't come back?  
  
*****  
  
Hama, doorguard of Edoras, oversaw the leaving of the people of the city. He heard a child cry, "Father!" and turned just in time to catch his son in a hug. "Aren't you coming with us, Father?"  
  
"Yes, son, but first I must make sure the others are gone all right. Go with your mother now, I will see you at Helm's Deep if not before."  
  
"Good-bye, Father."  
  
"Good-bye for now, Haleth. Give your mother my love."  
  
"I will!" Haleth promised, and he ran off. Shortly he spoke with his mother, then he went off with a few friends. Eowyn led them, all the people of Edoras.  
  
"He is your son?"  
  
Hama had not seen or heard Gandalf approach. "He is."  
  
"How old is he?" asked Gandalf. Hama knew what was meant by the question.  
  
"He is eleven, , and I hope it will not come to that."  
  
"He looks younger. . ."  
  
*****  
  
"Why do you think we are being evacuated?" Haleth's friend Aioch asked. They had been walking for nearly three hours, and all wondered why.  
  
"I bet your father knows, Haleth," Cofen said.  
  
"Of course he does!" Haleth exclaimed, indignant.  
  
"Then ask him," Joshul said. Off Haleth's bloodthirsty look, he added, "We would all like to know." Joshul was only nine years old, too young to understand Haleth's anger at him. Joshul always asked whatever he was wondering, said whatever he thought. He had not meant to challenge Haleth, but Haleth had sensed a challenge, anyway.  
  
"Well. . ." as with all boys, Haleth was proud. He was not willing to simply refuse to ask his father, even though he knew it would be best not to. Luckily a distraction arose.  
  
"A scout!" The shout had come from the ridge just ahead, where a tall, slender figure stood with a bow in his hand. Something lay before him, dead; it was a warg. Trouble was brewing, if wargs scouted them out. The men on horseback or on foot rushed forward as a wave of wargs approached. King Theoden turned to look at his people, most of whom had taken to shouting in fear.  
  
"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep!" The King called to his niece.  
  
"I can fight!" she protested, and to Haleth it looked as though she could. She sat proud in her saddle, a sword at her hip.  
  
"No!" Theoden said. Eowyn turned her horse.  
  
"Follow me!" she cried. "People of Edoras, follow me to the safety of Helm's Deep!" The people collected their things and followed the white lady. Haleth turned to his friends. Joshul was scared stiff, but Cofen wasn't.  
  
"That was so interesting! How exciting!" Cofen babbled. Haleth ignored him.  
  
"We had best find our mamas now, they will be worried otherwise. Come, Joshul, I saw your mama walking beside my own earlier." Haleth took command of the situation, taking young Joshul's hand and leading him forward.  
  
"Joshul!"  
  
"Haleth!" Their mamas were indeed glad to see them, hugging and kissing them through tears. "We must go on." They did, following Lady Eowyn. "I want you to look after Joshul, all right, Haleth?"  
  
"Yes, Mama," Haleth said with a decisive nod. He and Joshul had grown up near each other and had been friends for many years. Haleth had always looked after the younger boy, and now it was more important than ever that he did, it seemed from his mama's tone. "Is there danger ahead?"  
  
"There well may be, my boy. There well may be."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So, how was it? Just for a beginning, of course. 


	2. Arrivals and Departures

Disclaimer: I don't own it. . .but I really wish I did. . .  
  
Cat Eyes: Thanks! Your story is really great, by the way, no matter what nasty reviewers say. To stand up to them and write something like that /is/ a point of pride.  
  
Smeagol: I think it's actually spelled ominous, but maybe that's another **shudder** vocab word. If I do my job well, perhaps you will pity him, perhaps you will not. Perhaps you shall cry, but I doubt it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, I really appreciate it **hint, hint** and here's another, but not much longer, chapter.  
  
DreamCatcher: Thanks, Shield Maiden. As for the child's perspective, well, that's what you get with an immature writer, isn't it?  
  
Emmithar: Thanks for giving me the right to just go ahead, it was really just a matter of time before one of us took up the lead (unfortunately it was me, for yours would have been far better). You hurt your nose, also? Ohh, a knee, ouch. That's probably worse than mine, which was a fist. Hope you're feeling better! It is ironic, much as Elijah Wood says in the movie (something about "I always dreamed I was off with you, off on one of your adventures. . .my own adventure turned out to be quite different.") but it is a common irony, almost like how many little girls dream of being princesses, yet when you learn about them (just think Mary Tudor and Elizabeth Tudor). Anyway, thanks for reviewing and good luck with yours, as well. (by the way, I reviewed you and Carrie's story but I had to use a different pen name, so "IllegalSmugglers" is actually me. Smeagol and I share that name.)  
  
  
  
  
  
*****  
  
"Helm's Deep! Helm's Deep!" The cries could almost pass for jubilant, so relieved were the people of Edoras. Haleth, who had not been looking ahead but at the ground before him, now did look before him, and the sight that met him he would not soon forget. It was a fortress, Helm's Deep, all Haleth could see was a huge stone wall, so impenetrable the strongest of orcs could not get in. Set in the wall were two wooden doors, led up to by a ramp of stone. As he watched, the doors opened, and the people of the city began pouring in. Even Laina smiled, and shepherded Haleth along quickly. Somehow the child sensed that once inside the wall, they would be safe.  
  
"No one can reach us now, mama. We're safe in here," Haleth assured her, but Laina still seemed nervous. Haleth's confidence faltered. "Aren't we? Aren't we safe here, mama?"  
  
"We will never be safer than we are here," Laina replied, and her took this as truth and was comforted. Together with Joshul and his mama, they found a place to call their own, and they sat down for a much-needed rest. Haleth chewed slowly on a piece of bread, unsure. He was unsure of how long they would be there, unsure of how his father fared, unsure of how Aioch and Cofen were. Beside him, Joshul had fallen asleep, and now he leaned against Haleth's shoulder. Haleth did not mind this overly much, but when he finally finished his bread he shook Joshul awake.  
  
"What was that for?" Joshul asked.  
  
"Let's have a look around," Haleth said, standing and offering a hand to Joshul, who took it. Haleth scouted the area, looking for someone to tell where they would be. "Mama," Haleth said, "Joshul and I are going to go exploring."  
  
"All right, but stay together and keep out of trouble," Laina requested.  
  
"We will, Mama," Haleth promised, then turning to his friend, "let's go, Joshul." Joshul slipped his hand into Haleth's, partially from fear of getting lost in a new place, and partially so they would not be separated. Haleth took this, also, in stride, not embarrassed to have Joshul hanging onto him, although the reason he had asked Joshul to accompany him was simply that he knew his mother would allow them together, but not alone, to scout out the area.  
  
It did not take long for Haleth and Joshul to see the areas they were allowed in, staying outside almost as a rule. Haleth thought they might be able to slip into some areas restricted to them, but Joshul refused stubbornly, pulling at Haleth's hand. Luckily, before his patience wore too thin, Haleth was spotted by someone known to him. "Haleth! Haleth, Joshul!" Aioch called their names. They stopped and he ran up to them, clearly relieved. Had they been girls they might have hugged, but boys did /not/ do things like that.  
  
"How now, Aioch?" Joshul asked. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I am, thank you, and you both are well?" Aioch replied in necessary formality, then he looked around and pulled them over to a rather empty corner for some privacy. "After you left, Cofen and I argued briefly about what to do. He wanted to stay and watch the battle, I wanted to find someone I knew and leave." Aioch had no mama, so for him it was a matter of finding a neighbor or a friend, a grown-up friend. "Haleth, please have you seen him? I stormed away, and I fear he may have. . .he might have stayed at the battle, Haleth."  
  
"I'm sorry, Aioch. I have not seen him. Come with Joshul and I, we are exploring," he offered, in part to comfort his friend but also because with two of them they would surely manage to get Joshul into the restricted areas.  
  
"Thank you, I will," Aioch said, and went off with them. The first thing Haleth did was suggest they sneak into the space off to the west and a bit, where the guards kept them out. "No, Haleth," Aioch said. Haleth was furious. Aioch was there to agree with him, not with Joshul! Aioch, seeing the fury, suggested, "Let us climb up onto the wall yonder, where we might watch what happens."  
  
"Yes, yes! That is a good idea, Aioch. Please can we, Haleth? Please?" It was a bit younger than his age for Joshul to whine like that, but with his dishwater blonde hair and big grey eyes he was irresistable. Haleth nodded, and they three dashed up the steps. Haleth's chin just came up to the indentation in the wall, and he rested it snugly on the cold stone. Aioch beside him had perhaps two inches' height advantage. Haleth was gazing at the hazy figures moving towards them, wondering if they were enemies, when he heard a cry. "What is it? What's happening?" much as he jumped, on his feet Joshul came up only high enough that half his eyes were above the rim of the wall.  
  
"Here, Joshul," Aioch said, lifting the smaller boy so he could see.  
  
"Our riders!" Joshul cried. The figures had come into view now, clearly and defined. Led by King Theoden, the riders approached. The city doors swung open for them, and Aioch, Haleth, and Joshul spread themselves flat on the ground, gazing down at the riders. First came King Theoden, close beside an Elf and a Dwarf, then the rest of their people.  
  
"He's missing," Aioch said almost sadly, but not a tone as if to suggest something very close and personal.  
  
"Who is?" Haleth asked. It was unlikely that Aioch meant someone he knew, as he had very few relatives and was often passed between them, not feeling any kinship to any of them.  
  
"Oh, no one," Aioch muttered, "just one rider. . .I had been watching him. He rode with King Theoden."  
  
"If it's no one, why do you mind that he is not here?" Joshul's question was accompanied by a great banging as the doors closed, and the ground beneath the three shook slightly.  
  
"Well, I suppose I had admired him a little. . .he sat as though he had nothing to be ashamed of," Aioch mused. "But now I see how few of our men have returned from this fray." Haleth nodded gravely to his friend's words, but did not speak of what he had seen: one man, walking in, carried the body of a small child. There were many cries of women and children as they saw the men returning, and found among them brothers, fathers, and husbands.  
  
"We should go back now," Joshul said, and there was no time to protest as one of the guards had noticed them and told them in as kindly a manner as possible to "scurry on down to their mothers".  
  
*****  
  
"Haleth," someone was whispering. Haleth rolled over to face them, opening his groggy eyes. Stars shone down on them from the smooth sky above. Above him knelt Aioch, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Haleth," he swallowed with the word, "Cofen was killed. This is all my fault, Haleth, I was there, I should have told him. . .should have made him come with me."  
  
"No, no, Aioch, it is not your fault," Haleth assured his friend, sitting up. He had seen the body, and had been prepared, at first, for this news, but he had not honestly expected it to come. Now that it did he was in shock. It had always been the four of them, friends forever, a tribe of their own. Now one was missing. . ."None of us could ever control Cofen when he had something in mind, he never listened. Do not blame yourself."  
  
"But Haleth. . .he isn't coming back," Aioch whispered. Haleth did something then that he had never before done: he hugged his friend. Rocking Aioch back and forth gently, Haleth cried with him, pressing his face into his friend's hair. There was movement beside them; someone stirred.  
  
"Haleth? Aioch, is that you?" A sleepy, childish voice inquired from the darkness.  
  
Haleth looked up from Aioch's head, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, and whispered gently, "Go back to sleep, Joshul." Joshul did not listen.  
  
"It's Cofen, isn't it?" he asked, in his child's way already knowing. Haleth nodded. His mama had been right, trouble was brewing, and this might not be the last time they felt a loss. He would have to look after Joshul, and Aioch as well. Though older, Aioch had been shaken up by Cofen's death far more than the others, and being on his own he had no one else to hold him and tell him it was all right. Haleth held out an arm, and Joshul scrambled into it.  
  
All was quiet in the fortress. The guards stood their watch in peace, and men, women, and children slept. No one noticed three small boys, clinging to each other, in tears, swaying gently as if with the wind. And the stars shone down on them. 


	3. Preparing for War

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and places are not mine. (Aioch, Cofen, Joshul, and Laina are my characters, though)  
  
Emmithar: Ow! **rubs head** I'll put myself down as much as I want to! And if I think I'm a bad writer, then, well, then it's my choice!! Anyway, I do tend to run myself down, just ask Smeagol, she'll tell you. Ohh, that's a nasty illness. Hope you're feeling better! Yay! Little Estel! And even more yay, Little Estel torture! IllegalSmugglers was actually Smeagol's idea for a name. . .anyway, thank you and can't wait for yours and Carrie's new stories!  
  
Smeagol: Vaguely. . . Don't want a ring. No, no, no! Ring is evil, and must be DESTROYED! Don't tempt me with evil, I fear I might not resist, and unlike you I lust not after corruption.  
  
Starfleet Hobbit: Thanks. Yeah, Hama's pretty cool, but he has such a short role! It kinda sucks.  
  
*****  
  
"Come on, Aioch," Haleth said, pulling his friend to his feet. "Come on, let's go explore a bit." Aioch protested weakly, then complied halfheartedly. Cofen's death had taken a toll on all of them, even Joshul who hardly understood, but Aioch was worst. Haleth found a task in looking out for Aioch, a distraction in diverting his friend's attention from Cofen.  
  
"We've already explored," Aioch protested as he followed after Haleth, Joshul trotted at Haleth's side.  
  
"Not everywhere," Haleth told him. "There's got to be somewhere we haven't been yet."  
  
"I have an idea," Joshul said. Haleth was surprised in the least, he had forgotten Joshul's sharp memory, but now he remembered.  
  
"Lead on," Haleth said playfully. Joshul took the lead, circling about. Finally the other two declared themselves lost, but Joshul insisted that he knew where they were. They were descending a widely curving staircase-like ramp, when suddenly a rider came through. The three jumped back, plastering themselves against the wall. Aioch's eyes lit up. "It's him, isn't it?" Haleth asked. Aioch nodded.  
  
"Come on!" Aioch said, taking Joshul's hand and pulling him after the rider. The three followed until the crowds became too thick for them, then they slipped back to Haleth's and Joshul's mamas. "He's still alive! Can you believe it?"  
  
"Aye, tis a miracle," Joshul said.  
  
"It truly is," Haleth agreed. "Men do not come back from the dead." Aioch's face fell, and Haleth realized just how dumb that comment had been. "He is real, Aioch! Let us watch him for a while, you will see." With that the three were off again, ducking through crowds until they were closer to the keep than they had thought they ever would come. Aioch's hands shot out and stopped Joshul and Haleth from rushing out right in front of King Theoden and the dark rider who was back from the dead.  
  
"Get the women and children to the caves," Theoden ordered.  
  
Haleth's breath caught in his throat, and he choked for more air. That could mean only one thing: a battle. A battle here at Helm's Deep? Could it be? It must be only a precaution, no one could penetrated the thick wall of their fortress. "Haleth," Joshul whispered. "It's real."  
  
*****  
  
The caves were damp, but surprisingly large and open. Somewhere a baby cried. Aioch had stayed with Joshul and Haleth. Now they huddled together in unspeakable fear. While they did not wish to believe that any of it was for real, they had not been left much of a choice: guards circulated, separating the stronger boys from the children. It was a battle, a war. And it was real.  
  
"They'll take us," Joshul whispered.  
  
"No," Haleth told him firmly. "At the very least, not you, Joshul. You are too young." While it was said that serving and even dying for one's country was a great honour, none of the boys wished to do so. They would forgo honour. "We're only children."  
  
"Do they see it that way?" Aioch asked with a nod at the approaching guard. Joshul's mama intercepted him.  
  
"They are only children," she cried, not about to let her son go out to battle and die. "These are no soldiers!"  
  
"I'm sorry," the guard said. By the look in his eyes it was clear that he was indeed sorry, but that there was nothing he could do. "I can't lead you, but follow that crowd to the armory," he instructed the three. They nodded and helped each other to their feet.  
  
Numbly they made their way into the stream of young men heading out of the caves. We are all going to die, Haleth thought grimly. It's all over. He closed his eyes lightly, and an image flashed before him of Joshul, younger than he was now, smiling, revealing the gap where his front teeth had been knocked out in a scuffle with Haleth only days before. "Not him," Haleth begged. "No." He turned, seeing that they were no longer being watched, then he shoved Joshul out of line. "Go on, back to your mama."  
  
Joshul's jaw dropped in surprise. Disobey the King? Did Haleth dare risk his neck by sending Joshul back, to safety? "Go," Haleth repeated, tipping his head forward. Joshul nodded, tearing up, then ducked off. He was small and no one would notice him, with any luck. Haleth turned forward, not even daring to watch as if that would jinx Joshul's chances.  
  
"Let's hurry," Aioch said, taking Haleth's hand and pulling him forward. "Then there will be no chance of us looking back." The two quickened their pace, cutting through a mass of flesh to the armory.  
  
The armory was so packed with people, the boys could not see the walls, only the gray stones of the floor. Around them, men seemed to be simply milling. Aioch and Haleth, being small and lithe, twisted and slipped through the gaps in the bodies, reaching the table of chain mail and plate mail. Aioch decided to take plate mail, believing it to be strongest, and Haleth took chain mail, not knowing either way.  
  
The boys hurried out to don their mail. "This weighs a ton!" Haleth exclaimed as he pulled the mail shirt over his head. It fell to his knees. Aioch struggled with his plate armor.  
  
"Will you help me with this?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know how," Haleth said, yet he moved behind Aioch and fastened the mail as best he could. Both boys managed their helmets on their own, then they headed back for swords. The men hardly seemed to have moved since the last time, and the boys could not duck through with their mail on. Haleth pulled Aioch back outside, after a quarter hour of standing about. "I'll leave my mail here and you watch it, then you leave yours and I'll watch it," he suggested.  
  
"All right," Aioch agreed. Haleth managed to get the shirt over his head, and the helmet off, and piled them both at Aioch's feet.  
  
"Half a minute," Haleth promised, then he ducked into the armory. Without the mail, he enjoyed his returned sense of freedom, ducking through the crowds the long way, just to enjoy being free. Remembering Aioch, Haleth was forced to curb his enthusiasm and make his way to a table piled with swords. He was just leaving when he heard a shout that set all his nerves off.  
  
"I shall die as one of them!" someone shouted.  
  
Haleth ran back to Aioch, shaking. Realization had dawned on him: there was a good chance that every one of them would die. "What's wrong?" Aioch asked, but Haleth only shook his head. With a shrug Aioch took off, already having piled his armor by Haleth's. Haleth numbly knelt by the wall, rubbing his hand over Aioch's armor. Aioch was quicker, back in a matter of seconds, and donning his armor again. Haleth also pulled on his armor shirt, and he felt as if he was dressing for his funeral.  
  
Haleth and Aioch moved over to a fire burning in a metal cauldron. They soaked up the warmth, each weakly trying to keep the conversation going as they both tried to keep from despairing. Debatably, they realized that to despair completely, to admit the likelihood of their doom, would destroy them, or at least their sanity.  
  
"Give me your sword."  
  
It was a request, from a voice Haleth had heard earlier. He could not recall where, but whoever it was, he turned to them and handed over his sword, properly as his father had shown him, tip pointing towards him. "What is your name?"  
  
"Haleth, son of Hama, my lord," Haleth said. Looking up, he drew in a breath. It was Aioch's rider, who showed no shame, and Haleth realized then that it was also the man who said he would die as one of them, one of the Rohirrim. He understood suddenly what Aioch had seen in this man, and trusted him. "The men are saying that we will not live out the night," he confided. "They say that there is no hope."  
  
Haleth leapt back as the man stood, twisting the sword this way and that, cutting through the air with the grace of an expert swordsman. At first Haleth had been frightened that the man would accidentally skewer him, but he understood that this man knew what he was doing. Finally he stopped, halting the blade directly in front of him. "This is a good sword, Haleth, son of Hama."  
  
The man knelt, and returned Haleth's sword. "There is always hope," he said, and Haleth believed him. With renewed courage, Haleth swallowed, and prepared to face the long hours ahead of him. 


	4. Aftermath

"Jo, dear, don't hope any more. It won't do any good."  
  
-Beth, Louisa May Alcott's Little Women  
  
Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I claim to, own any recognizable characters and/or places in this story.  
  
Cat Eyes: Yay! Eh, most people who've seen it once are like "Haleth? Who's that?" and then I tell them and they don't remember.  
  
Umbrella-Experiment: Thanks!  
  
Emmithar: Stupid ff.n! Thanks! Hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long!  
  
*****  
  
Haleth came upon a pyre of wood, where a single body had been set ablaze. "Who burns here?" he asked, for many stood nearby in sorrow. Who was the much-loved man that now went to Mandos? Who had he been? There were few people in Edoras that Haleth had not at least met once or twice, and reflecting on this he feared the answer to his question.  
  
"He burns Hama, doorguard of Edoras--"  
  
Haleth heard no more. All sound was taken from him, all feeling left his body. It seemed as though his mind was all that remained of what had once been Haleth, son of Hama. Emotion surged, and Haleth suddenly wanted to leap forward and to burn with the father he had loved, and had never imagined loosing. He wanted to cry, but he shoved his tears away with his grimy wrists.  
  
"Do not cry," he could hear Aioch tell him. "If you stay strong, you will grow, Haleth, and this will be but a part of who you become."  
  
"Thank you," he whispered to his friend, and turned to walk away from the fire. As he did so he stumbled, and suddenly the night before loomed over him. . .  
  
~* "Daer ú-o chyn, Ú-danno i failad a thi; an úben tannatha le failad!" Haleth did not know Elvish. He had no idea what had just been said. In fact, he hardly heard the words: he was scared out of his wits, shaking so much, he could feel his heart racing, he jumped from foot to foot. Aioch squeezed his hand for reassurance.  
  
The Uruk-Hai army approached, like a black wave coming slowly up the seashore. Their steps were timed to perfection, and thousands of feet landed at once, shaking the ground. Their orc-horns sounded ferociously and their torches burned with uncanny brightness. Suddenly they stopped, not fifteen yards from the fortress.  
  
"Hado I phillin!"  
  
This one Haleth guessed the meaning of, for afterwards a volley of arrows assaulted the Uruk-Hai--and that was it. The battle had begun. There was nothing for a young boy with a sword to do but watch as the archers, Elves that had appeared as if by magic and Men Haleth had known most of his life. He trusted them, but was still uneasy. *~  
  
Haleth came out of his reverie as he slammed to the ground. No one noticed. He picked himself up, but did not bother to brush off the dirt. He was dirty already, what would a bit of soil do to change that? He turned to see what he had just tripped over, and was again returned to the night before.  
  
~* The Uruk-Hai were managing to get onto the wall now. Haleth swung his sword with both hands, and when it first found flesh he was shocked. The Uruk stopped, having been cut half-way through with a sword, then fell to the ground. Haleth was shocked. He had taken a life. It may have been a mine-or-his matter, but that did not change the fact: he had taken a life.  
  
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. "It is your life that maters now," said rapidly a consoling voice. "Mourn later. You are a warrior now."  
  
Haleth turned, but whomever had spoken to him was gone. *~  
  
Haleth's eyes lingered on the unusual shock of red hair, dirty but unable to hide its color. The wide eyes seemed to penetrate Haleth's very heart. The fingers of the body curled as if holding a sword: someone had taken a weapon from this dead soldier. Where was the wound that had killed him? Dried blood surrounded him, but no wound showed.  
  
~* "Back to the Keep! Fall back!" the order was called out, and Haleth obeyed at once. The outer wall had exploded, and he was still amazed to think of the Dwarf that stood in the gap, swinging out at the Uruk-Hai with his axe as they swarmed in. The people of Edoras were losing this battle, Haleth realized, but by returning to the Keep their forces would be more focused, striking as one. *~  
  
He had not seen what had happened, but had stumbled outside in a daze with the knowledge that it was over. Moments later he had come upon his father's funeral pyre. Dead bodies were being moved away, piled and burned in the case of Uruk-Hai. But one seemed to have been overlooked.  
  
Haleth fell to his knees. He took the body of his friend in his arms, cradling him, embracing him. He sobbed, burying his head Aioch's hair and shaking miserably. His shoulder convulsed as he did his best to hide the sorrow that took him. Memories flooded back to him of each Uruk-Hai warrior he killed, of every person he had lost--memories of Hama, memories of Aioch. Memories of Joshul and Laina, who might yet have lived--Haleth did not know.  
  
Haleth gazed around at the people who stood together or apart, each of the dead having loved ones to stand and send him or her to Mandos. "He died in this battle as well. He was twelve years old." Haleth was slowly becoming hysterical. "He had a name, but no family to love him. His life was a thing to mourn and yet he loved it. You gazed on him with pity in the streets! You mourned him then for living! Will you not mourn him for dying? Who will mourn him now? Who will mourn him!"  
  
"He died bravely."  
  
It was the same person that had spoken to Haleth on the deeping wall, when he killed his first Uruk. Haleth looked up, this time not caring if or not he saw the face of his companion. It was an Elf, somehow clean save a smudge of dirt mixed with blood on his cheek, gazing at Haleth with sympathy and understanding. As Haleth blinked back tears, the Elf knelt beside him.  
  
"I fought beside him. I admit I saw him fall, and that I took the arrow from his body and used it as my own. I knew him not. But I will mourn his passing."  
  
Haleth's shoulders rose and came together as he tried not to cry. The words of the Elf touched him deeply. Despite his effort's Haleth cried again, bereft of any way to hide his tears. The Elf seemed surprised, but he was not stupid. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, the Elf gently cleaned off Haleth's face, then helped the boy to his feet. Haleth did not want to leave Aioch, but was too weak to protest.  
  
What the Elf did next shocked Haleth: he knelt again, and scooped up the body of Aioch with such tenderness it might have been the body of his own son. "Come. We will gather wood for a small pyre, and free his spirit for Mandos."  
  
*****  
  
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Author's Note: Yeah, guess who that Elf was. And no, that is not the ending, there will be more. 


	5. Forward

Child of Edoras, Chapter Five  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Alynna Lis Eachann: I have no idea. You have to realize that my memory is only average, so I'm writing on that. . .so long as the story flows, though, it's not too bad, I figure.  
  
Cat Eyes: Haleth was in the book? I don't recall that. Probably you're right though.  
  
*****  
  
"What will happen to me now?" Haleth asked, eyes staring dead ahead into the flames. Aioch's body burned on the pyre Haleth and his Elven comrade had assembled. They had spoken not a word to each other. Haleth was still too shocked to think very much, with loss and simply because that was the effect of battle. Somehow Aioch's death made him realize (he would learn later that these were not thoughts but subconsciously heard words of his Elven friend) that he was still alive. Battle had not destroyed him, and he must not let it.  
  
"That is up to you," replied the Elf. "In earnest I am unsure, having been an archer all my life and always with a home, but you are yet a child."  
  
Haleth shook his head. "I may be that, my lord, but I cannot again take such an idle role." The days of wrestling in the dirt and chasing Joshul through crowded marketplaces were over, Haleth knew. They would not be returning. "And yet I am too young to be a rider of my King. I do not wish to be."  
  
"Why not?" asked the Elf, looking down in surprise. Haleth's lip slipped beneath his teeth again, and he raised his chin to meet the gaze of the taller figure beside him.  
  
"Because I was unready to see my friends die," Haleth replied.  
  
"You cannot blame your king for that," the Elf said with a shake of his head.  
  
Haleth thought on this, then said, "No. . .perhaps not." Before he could continue, he heard his name shouted from somewhere near the fallen wall. "Haleth, Haleth!" The boy turned, the Elf faded into the shadows, and a young boy threw himself at Haleth, with an older woman soon following. Joshul and Laina were both spectacularly pleased to see him alive. "Mother," Haleth said, as she released him.  
  
"Oh, Haleth. I was so frightened, so afraid I would never see you again. . ."  
  
"Father's dead, Mother." Why could he not think of something else? In truth Haleth did not think, he simply spoke. There had been no time for thought, and she would have had to learn somehow, anyway. "And Joshul," he said, turning to the younger boy, "Aioch is dead, also. You understand, don't you?" Joshul nodded, wiping a tear from his face.  
  
"Come on, Haleth," said Laina, "and we shall see what we can do about getting you cleaned up." In the chaos of after-battle, this seemed the least appropriate thing for her to say. Haleth gaped, open-mouthed. People had died. They would not be coming back. Did she not see that? How could she think of cleaning up?  
  
And yet he understood. Laina was his mother. Her instinct was strong, and always it seemed she knew just what to do about just what was happening. She was just doing what she knew how to do; it was her own way of dealing with the stress and anguish the engulfed them all. In mind Haleth was no longer her son, but in body he had many years yet to go. She reached for him and he drew away.  
  
"I think I can manage on my own," he said, unwilling to wash away the muck quite yet. He still felt filthy at times, remembering the feelings he had had, the thoughts in his head when he was killing. . .all of the sudden Haleth fell to his knees and retched up the nothingness in the pit of his stomach, leaning on one hand and grasping his chest and throat with the other. When he finished, and was quite sure of it, Haleth got to his feet. At first he stumbled, then--by leaning on Joshul's proffered arm--stood steadily. "Mother," said Haleth, hoping to diffuse the situation, "perhaps you ought to get cleaned up, also. It must have been difficult, so much time in the caves. Joshul and I are going to go find something to eat."  
  
"All right, but be careful, Haleth," Laina agreed. She turned, with one wary glance over her shoulder. Haleth and Joshul stayed but a moment, until Aioch's pyre was naught but crumbling embers.  
  
"Where is your mother, Joshul?" asked Haleth.  
  
"She fainted in the caves," Joshul said. "They took her. . .I don't know where, but the King's Men surely know what they are doing."  
  
"Surely," Haleth muttered. Had Joshul always been so ignorant? He seemed young now, more so than he ever had before. "Come, let us find food. Aren't you hungry?" This Joshul could not deny, and so the two sought whatever sustenance they could find. After a time they stumbled into the dim dining hall, and found that many had also sought a meal. Joshul and Haleth grabbed bowls, Joshul eagerly and Haleth without expression, and joined the line of refugees and warriors waiting for soup and bread.  
  
All the while Joshul talked excitedly. "I wished so many times you had been with us in the caves, Haleth, and Aioch, too, I was so scared, worried we would never make it out, or that if we did our homes and everything would be gone. . .imagine coming out and finding you all right, and our forces triumphant! Oh, Haleth, I could hardly think of a greater joy--"  
  
"Joy?" Haleth whirled, facing his friend angrily. "Joy?" he repeated. "Have you not seen what happened out there? Did you not count the bodies and the pyres? Are you insane, to call this wreckage joy?" In moments his face reddened, ashamed of his outburst, but first in reddened in anger. The entire population of the hall was staring at him, some nodding, some shaking their heads, all hearing his words so clearly.  
  
For many moments the boys just stood, until the man in front of Haleth turned, clapped the boy on the shoulder and said, "Let him be, son. Let him be."  
  
Seething, Haleth turned forward again, pointedly ignoring Joshul. The younger boy, unsure, stayed quiet a moment. Just as everyone was turning back to their meals, Joshul said, softly at first then getting louder, as though preaching to his friend, and perhaps the entire room, "We still have got to have hope, Haleth. We wouldn't get far without that. We have to rebuild, and restore, and remake what's been lost. That will not happen if we sit around and mope. If we only look at what we have lost without thought of regaining it, Saruman will have defeated us. Well he never defeated me!"  
  
Everyone, again, was aware of the two boys. Haleth felt embarrassed for his friend. And then, it was the oddest thing. There was clapping. Haleth and Joshul continued in their silence, however, getting their food and sitting down at one of the wooden tables, across from each other despite their contentious state. "I'm sorry, Joshul," Haleth said finally. "I only feel that you haven't quite seen battle. . .it was awful. It drained me of hope."  
  
"I understand," Joshul said. "I wondered often at what was happening. We heard terrible huge noises, and were all so scared. It seemed like hope was the only thing we had. . .one woman didn't even have that, and she. . ." Joshul looked about, then lowered his voice. "She killed herself, Haleth. She took a knife from one of the guards and opened up her chest. It was awful, and the body was taken into the tunnels because it could not be taken from the caves. . ." Joshul blinked back tears.  
  
Just then a voice now familiar to Haleth said, "Do you still seek placement?"  
  
Joshul's mouth fell open. Haleth turned, and saw that the Elf was standing behind him with a Man, someone strikingly familiar. . .oh! It was that rider Aioch noted. "Yes," Haleth replied. Joshul looked away as the rider turned to meet his gaze. The boy could not help but cry, tears falling quietly to the tabletop.  
  
"You are welcome to ride with the Dunedain, and myself."  
  
Haleth nodded. "Thank you. Must I answer now?"  
  
"No, you may think it over, but answer shortly, if you are able."  
  
"All right. Thank you, again."  
  
"Think nothing of it." And the two departed, the rider tapping Joshul lightly as they passed.  
  
"Joshul," Haleth said, taking his friend's hand atop the table. "Are you all right?"  
  
"It's just so unfair, Haleth. Aioch would have wanted to meet him, and here we do soon as Aioch's. . .Aioch's gone. It's just no fair."  
  
Haleth could think of nothing to say to that. After all, it wasn't fair. 


	6. Aioch

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
*****  
  
After eating, Haleth found a place to sleep--mostly the Rohan refugees were gathering their blankets and spreading them where they could. He thought he had heard something about a return to Edoras, but paid it no mind, falling into a deep sleep. He did not dream.  
  
The stars were shining when Haleth awoke, and like a dream he rose. His mind was blank but his muscles thought for him, and he climbed up atop the rubble, up atop what had once been the Deeping Wall. Haleth looked out across the land, and he saw bloodshed. He saw ten thousand orcs wielding their crude weapons, waving them, waiting, just waiting to find flesh. Haleth saw Elven archers fall, he saw Mortal archers fall, he saw Men and Elves take their place. He saw the obvious difference in the number of men and Elves--  
  
And he saw Aioch. When the orcs breached the Wall with their ladders, Haleth saw Aioch play the hero and slash angrily at the ropes, sending the ladder falling. He saw Aioch turn and continue to fight. He saw his friend see another, in fact, an Elf, in danger, and he saw his friend save him. He saw his friend die by the hand of a second Uruk-Hai. Moments later, the Elf his friend had moved to save fell, also.  
  
"NO!" Haleth screamed. At least, it began as a word, but he continued screaming, just screaming and screaming, no longer words, simply meaning, rage, and a complete lack of understanding. Why do the best people die and leave us sinners to fix the world they have left, to fill their spaces? Why do we have to die? Why do those that try to help in the end have no help? Why do they die? Why must it be so? Why can we never see them again? Haleth fell to his knees, wishing he could cry tears to end the pain inside of him, but no tears would come. All solace had been taken from him.  
  
Time did not stop. When the sun rose, the anguished boy still knelt on the Deeping Wall, hugging himself and shaking. His trousers had been rubbed back and forth as he shook, and there were holes in the knees, and blood was seeping out from similar scrapes on Haleth's skin. He got to his feet knowing what he had to do. Without a care Haleth climbed back down from the wall, and though he paid no attention he did not fall. On the ground, he sought the Elf he had almost gotten to know.  
  
Haleth took a long time, stumbling over burned wood and Uruk bodies, to find the Elf, but when he did so, he had the patience to wait whilst the Elf and Aioch's Rider finished their conversation, which was, to Haleth, completely jumbled, as it was in Elvish, and noticed him. "Have you come to a decision?" asked the Elf.  
  
"I want to kill some orc," Haleth replied, knowing his voice sounded childish, but meaning every word.  
  
"As do we all," replied Aioch's Rider, speaking to Haleth in a voice completely unlike that he had spoken in before the battle. And Haleth realized then--his mind flashed back to what he had seen on the Deeping Wall the night before, and he felt his knees shaking. Aioch's Rider had lost someone he cared about in this battle, someone he had not expected to lose. It had been the Elf Aioch had died for. Haleth wanted to scream again.  
  
"Then I suppose it would be my decision to ride out with you, if the invitation still stands," Haleth replied.  
  
"Aye," the Elf replied. "Welcome, in that case. I am Legolas Greenleaf, this is Aragorn son of Arathorn--" he motioned to Aioch's Rider "--and this is Gimli son of Gloin," who was a Dwarf Haleth had not noticed before.  
  
Before Haleth could speak, Aioch's Rider--Aragorn, Haleth reminded himself-- said, "Have you any skill with a blade?" Quite clearly, he was the more critical of the three. "Legolas asks your admittance, he asks that you be allowed to ride with us, and as I trust him this I grant him, but if you want to kill some orc, boy, I'll not have you jumping into battle with a sword no more good to you than a feather. Unless you plan to tickle the orcs to death."  
  
Haleth wanted to reply angrily and rudely that he would run his blade through Aragorn and show him what skill he had, but instead he stuffed his anger deep down inside of him, and replied, "At the very least that would kill them, my lord. Better that than they live."  
  
Aragorn eyed Haleth in an angry, judgmental sort of way, and then, to Haleth's surprise, Aragorn and Legolas began to laugh. "He has you there, Hope," Legolas said, punching Aragorn playfully.  
  
"How can you be so happy? People have just died!" Haleth shouted, furious. It was unjust that they should laugh and joke when Aioch would never again. Aragorn and Legolas went suddenly solemn, and Gimli, who had not said a thing, looked from one to the other.  
  
"Seven and eight tens of years have I walked this earth," Aragorn said, "and in that time I have learned that vengeance quenches little, that the thing you least expect is still possible, and that deaths are for ever unless you learn to live on. We meant no disrespect to your fallen."  
  
"I. . .I should not have shouted at you," Haleth replied.  
  
"This has been your first battle, boy. You are rather amazing, as it is; after mine I was sick. If all you have is anger now, yell much as you like. We are a crowd that knows battle, knows anger, and knows shouts."  
  
"Basically, lad," said Gimli, speaking for the first time, "he means to say you have fallen in with a bad crowd." That time Haleth managed a weak smile, but inside he was dying. 


End file.
